I have no idea what a ‘meme’ is. Please don’t try and explain it to me cos much smarter women and men have tried. I dunno, something like ‘Helen Razer’s a homosexual’ comes to mind for some bizarre reason. Anyhoo. I take it to mean ‘crap people are talking about on teh interwebs’ but what would I know?

However, when I saw that the inimitable Kerri Sackville was writing about chicken pox, I wanted to get me a bit of that pox meme action. So here’s one I prepared earlier (as is my wont on this recycling paradise of a blog). Chicken pox and me have quite the history.

(Is nowhere near as funny as the Sackville one. Not that it’s a competition or anything. ;-))

The Itchy and Scratchy Show

There is officially a pox upon our house. Our six year old son, Levi, has contracted the varicella-zoster virus – or chickenpox to the uninitiated. And, as it happens, Levi and chickenpox go way back.

When I was pregnant with Indy a friend of ours contracted chickenpox. Neither my mum nor I could remember me ever having the virus as a child. Concerned for my little unborn one I rushed off to the doctor where it was discovered that I – like a contestant on Survivor – had immunity. Disaster averted. So when I was pregnant with Levi and my niece came down with the ‘pox, I happily went to visit her – feeling safe that my little passenger and I were protected.

A few months later our boy arrived. When Luke came over for a cuddle he noticed two distinct lines of scarring on our newborn’s cheeks. They looked exactly like preserved blisters. We pointed the scars out to the midwife and in double-quick time the room was full of rather important looking medical people. Levi was promptly whisked down to the neonatal unit and photographed for posterity. The head of the unit brought him back and informed us that, indeed, he had contracted chickenpox in-utero and would have to be examined for brain damage and vision impairment.

On Day Two I took my little guy for a brain scan while Day Three saw a visit from the ophthalmologist. “So what will we have to do?” I asked as he shone lights into Levi’s eyes. “Oh, we won’t be able to do anything,” he said, in rather clipped voice, “We’re just looking to see if he’s blind.” Not quite what you want to hear with a bunch of postnatal hormones running riot in your body.

But our son, while scarred, was born under a lucky star. On Day Four he was cleared of any chickenpox-related damage. As we went home counting our blessings we were warned to keep an eye on him in the future as he could run a remote risk of developing shingles – the reactivation of the varicella virus – rare but not impossible in kids.

So, last week, when one of the kindergarten mums told us that her son had chickenpox I dragged out Levi’s special story for a showing. Unfortunately, the next day the school rang to say that Levi was in sick bay, having become quite distressed at recess because of a ‘tingling head’. It seems his pre-natal exposure had not offered him any protection from his old nemesis.

An urgent trip to our GP eliminated a diagnosis of shingles but confirmed that our friend, Chickenpox, had come for another visit – and this time it was to be a visit of biblical proportions. Behind Levi’s ears, under his arms, on his back, torso and in his groin were a mass of bubbly blisters. He even had them on the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet, as well as some of the more dangerous ones veering close to his eyes. Over the next few days Levi had two febrile convulsions brought on by a fever of 40+, a ride in an ambulance and a night in hospital. Our poor, sick boy.

Hungry for information, I went to the guru – Google – as is the modern way. It was here that I made a rather disturbing discovery – The Chickenpox Party. In 2005, Shannon Henry wrote an article for The Washington Post titled A Pox on My Child: Cool! The article detailed the idea, held by some, that kids should contract certain illnesses in childhood in order to provide them with immunity in adulthood. It is believed that such illnesses are much more severe if we contract them when we are older.

The chickenpox party starts when one child contracts the pox. Out go the invitations to the gathering. Interested parents bring their offspring to this rather grotesque party and encourage them to eat from the same spoon as the sick child, cuddle up together and even play with the contagious blisters. Sort of like one big, poxy love-in. I’m not one to denigrate the choices of other parents but my little boy is so sick right now that the last thing he wants is a bunch of other kids over to visit, intent on playing Pop the Pox.

In Australia there is a vaccine available for chickenpox. It was not routinely offered until 2004 – two years after Levi was born. I wish it had been. My son is but a shadow of his former, energetic self and his angelic face is almost unrecognisable under the spots. This morning he sobbed when he looked in the mirror and wailed “Why me?” to the gods. I tried to console him by explaining how we sometimes catch things from other people. This just threw him into further distress as he recalled ‘high-fiving’ his best mate before he got sick. “I don’t want him to get it,” he said.

“Well, you will just have to go cross at the boy who gave it to you,” I said, hoping to cheer him up by apportioning blame.

“No,” he cried, with sad eyes, “he’s my friend.”

I wanted to hug him for his generous spirit – but he won’t let me touch him.

Damn you Chickenpox!

Have your kids had any of the so-called ‘childhood illnesses’? How did you cope?

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6 responses to “on memes and pox”

Oh the dreaded pox. It’s so horrible and my pair both had it young before the imminisation was available. If I had only seen my daughter’s case, I would have been flippant, so mild was it. But her 2 year old brother was very ill. Nothing like your little dude though. Poor guy!

Agh! Chicken pox. I had the displeasure of getting the pox two weeks after my belated honeymoon to Malaysia in 2000. I felt off one day, so had the day off work, then woke up and thought I was obviously run down because of a “pimple” on my forehead. Then I unrobed to shower and WOWZAS – “pimples” everywhere!

I had two weeks off work. Many episodes of Bold & The Beautiful were viewed. I was bored out of my brain – not to mention itchy.

Hubby had to take a work trip, and was keen to fly someone from Perth over to look after me, but I insisted I was fine. He shopped for food, and for 1 week, he bought about 3 loaves of bread, a half dozen tv dinners, 3 litres of milk, loads of snacks – I guess he didn’t take in to consideration I wouldn’t be very hungry! It was very sweet though.

Our boys have all been vaccinated, and I think it’s also something they suggest women have done before getting pregnant too. Fortunately, I had my “immunity” because of my illness. There’s one good thing from getting it!

Thanx Jayne.. Poor, poor sick boy.. That sounds terrible! Your boy has such a generous spirit… xx
I think the problem is that chicken pox has always been seen as a childhood illness. They never knew much more about it than that.. The vaccine has only been manufactured in recent years because they now know more about chickenpox and that it can lead to shingles later in life.. If you have the choice now between getting your children immunized or letting them contract it, get them immunized! If you have “had” chickenpox and are still unsure of your levels of immunity, then you can have your levels of immunity tested with a simple blood test. My sister only had a mild case of chicken pox as a child, not enough to build her immunity, so has now had the vaccine as well.

Pox. Yes indeedy. My kids escaped it long enough to be vaccinated. Glad about that because I had chickenpox as a kid, as you do (or did), and have since had two bouts of shingles. Oh yes I have!

The last one was only a few years ago and was so horrid I had to take a whole MONTH off work! With two small boys … geez … nightmarish stuff.

I recall one day lying on the lounge feeling really sorry for myself, with a small child who was also unwell with some other unmemorable grot lying on top of me … as I watched a house full of workmen pull the walls and ceiling out of my kitchen.